Patchy Ink
by turquoisecognaq
Summary: I dared glancing over to the sleeping shape in front of me. His chest was rising, then sinking. Rising. Sinking. I suppressed the urge to crawl closer. My head started spinning again. Coming closer to that blissful vertigo that would often overcome me when my trail of thought went into unfathomed depths, I sheepishly admitted to myself… I was beyond the point of return.


I watched Trunks sleep, the moonlight was tinting his lavender looks a lovely silver. He lay there motionless, tugged under a sheer blanket, the only visible movement being him breathing peacefully. His long, smooth locks spread everywhere around his face, framing him like a soft, silken veil. How long have I been staring at him? Minutes bled into hours as I watched him in silence, resting my face on my palm, close enough to feel his warmth. Somewhere behind us was the fireplace, abandoned. The flames started to drown beneath black wood and coal, and the soft crackling noises of the timber were a soft murmur that danced in the air around us. The weak golden light that had just moments ago flickered on both our skin, began disappearing.

I watched as he tilted his head ever so slightly, seeking a more comfortable position to continue his slumber. His hair slid like delicate fabric over his skin, exposing his ear and cheek to me.

What beauty…

Kami… why are you testing me like this…

His arm freed itself from the blanket, pushing it away, and laid open the tender flesh of his chest, peeking through the disarray of his clothes.

Oh…

I swallowed, breathing hard.

What canvas… what innocence…

I chuckled, covering my face with my free hand. I held my eyes shut. I breathed out, slowly. My thoughts were carrying me away again, I just couldn't help it.

Who was I? to dare think of such lowly things… to ever believe I was worthy, that I could possibly…

That I could… wishfully…

My heart clenched. What a corrupted person I was.

I dared glancing over to the sleeping shape in front of me.

His chest was rising, then sinking. Rising. Sinking. I suppressed the urge to crawl closer.

My head started spinning again. Coming closer to that blissful vertigo that would often overcome me when my trail of thought went into unfathomed depths, I sheepishly admitted to myself… I was beyond the point of return. I felt disgust towards myself as I formed the words in my mind again. I… I wanted him, I wanted all of him, and I felt tempted to give into my yearning.

 _…_ _If he was a white, virgin canvas, I was black, thick ink._

I was …a carnivore, a vulture, trembling at the thought of digging my claws into the plump flesh, to bury my beak into the meal presented so generously in front of me. I wanted to feast upon the rich juices, enjoy the plump fruits that I had watched ripe in front of me all these years.

 _…_ _If he was an untouched canvas, I was black, gooey, paint._

I wanted to harvest and get drunk, to ravish and claim, to taste and inhale.

 _…If he was a canvas, still unsullied, unspoilt by any color, sullying him was all I could think about._

With my words. With my hands. With my sweat. My spit. My moans. My screams. My thrusts.

My blood boiled, and I felt the heat reaching every part of my body. I smirked at my own pathetic, masochistic thoughts, cursing me for throwing myself into them at that very moment, when my object of desire was so close in front of me.

Just when I consciously tried pushing my dark thoughts aside, the boy slowly turned, and I watched as he wrapped his tan arms around me. I was pulled in a tight embrace, and he cuddled up against me, seeking the heat of my body.

'Gohan… don't leave…' his hoarse voice said.

Oh dearest, I could never leave you.

I wrapped my arms around his frame, and started petting him. I often did this since when he was a little boy, to soothe him, and he relaxed to the touch. I caressed his lavender hair, stroking from the top of his head down to his neck. I hoped Trunks was too sleepy to notice my arousal, and I shamelessly carried on petting him like there was nothing wrong.

Although his body seemed to relax, his fingers grabbed my shirt tightly. Clinging onto me like a kitten, he muttered something to himself, and I couldn't help but think how endearing he was. I lay my head closer to his, and breathed in his scent. He smelled of cheap shampoo and burned wood.

It was mind numbing.

'Gohan…'

I wasn't sure if he was talking to me, or if he was just talking in his sleep, but I couldn't leave that shy call unanswered.

'I'm here, Trunks,' I said softly.

'Gohan… stay with me…', he said, long lashes resting on his cheeks. His expression saddened me.

'I will, Trunks.' I said, his sad plea resonating in my thoughts. Was he dreaming?

I closed my eyes, and absentmindedly kissed the top of his head.

'Never… leave me.' His words pierced my heart. How cruel was it to hear these exact words? How he meant them, and what I was willing to misunderstand, to read into them, were like two different pair of shoes.

I was determined to wear the pair that made him the happiest, but my resolve was fading.

'I would never…,' I muttered, and kissed his temple. I felt him lean in to the touch.

He wanted more.

'ever', I planted a second kiss, almost reaching his ear, 'leave you', I whispered as I came even closer, planting a careful, soft kiss on it.

His ear became read, and a shallow breath left his mouth.

Was I seeing things?

I leaned away. His brows were slightly furrowed, and he was clinging onto me with more force. His face was faintly tinted with a pink color, and I wished I could have taken a photo to savour that moment forever, secretly, without him knowing. How adorable he was, he had no clue.

Then, I had an idea. I don't know where my braveness came from, but I reached with one hand, and tipped his face up to mine slowly.

I kissed his forehead.

I wanted more.

I kissed his left eye, then his right eye.

He shivered slightly. My adrenaline started kicking in.

I kissed his left cheek, then his right cheek.

More delightful squirming. More shallow breaths.

I kissed his nose, he chuckled, the blush deepened.

My eyes moved down his face, and my mouth followed. I stopped just shy of his lips. Through a clouded mind, I managed to get hold of the last strand of consciousness, which was a thin paper wall of resistance at that point. Questions roamed my mind like a chaotic mass of words, and doubt started nagging at me.

Was I ready and willing to throw everything we were, everything we had, and everything I was to him, away? Just to get a taste of him?

I smiled helplessly, giving in to my craving.

 _I was patchy, smeary, black mush._

I was a vulture, and I wanted to feast.

I leaned in, and my hungry, coarse lips met soft rosebuds. I felt like wax, melting… There was just him now:

Him in my mind, on my lips. Him in my grip, his warm skin tingling my senses. Him in my chest, his scent filling me, lifting me, making me burst, overflowing. What I assumed was his first kiss was mine now, and my lips moved against his softly, tenderly. As much as I wanted to pick the petals apart, I needed to be gentle.

I tried to savour the moment, tried to restrain myself, tried to stop after the initial touch, but my need was not saturated yet. I swallowed, and nibbled on the sensitive skin, begging to give me more, feed me more. I sucked on his bottom lip, and my tongue slipped, eager to taste the pink flesh. My hands roamed on the smooth skin of his neck, his jaw, and my thumbs brushed over his warm cheeks. One of my hands found his ear, and then buried itself in lavender silk.

Heavy breathing turned into hoarse groaning, and my tongue found its way into his mouth. Oh kami, never had I tasted such sweet warmth, and the sensation was making me dizzy. I began sweating, and my hip tried to roll against his, to rub against him and satisfy my ache. My hand reached behind him to his lower back, holding him close. I felt myself pulsating, throbbing, digging into him. I was going to burn in hell for this.

Then, I felt something wet on my skin – a tear, and it wasn't mine. I opened my eyes in horror, and looked into half lidded blue eyes, who looked at me with a such mixture emotions that I couldn't tell what they were trying to tell me. I suddenly felt ashamed for what I did, for crossing that boundary, that line that I avoided for so long. I was scum, I took advantage of him while he was sleeping, and broke his trust. I was unworthy of even being around him. How should I look him in the eyes? What do I tell him? What do I do? Oh Trunks…

'G-Gohan… W-what…' tears run down his cheeks, and his hands finally let go of my shirt, to cover his wet face. My heart sunk as I watched my sweet prince give in to his tears. I was a monster. I-I needed to bring him to Bulma, to pack my things, and just leave. To save him from my filthy thoughts and my actions, and keep my and his sanity intact, or at least what was left of it. But I couldn't just leave and not say anything. Now had to be the moment. There wasn't any other way.

'G-Goha-an, d-did you… just…k-ki-,' his words were stuck in his throat, and I couldn't blame him. I reached out to pet him on his hair, but stopped right there in the movement. No, no more touching. Never again.

'I'm-I'm so sorry Trunks' Trunks froze when he realized that yes, I admitted that I indeed had kissed him. I moved a little away from him, to give him some space.

Trunks briefly looked me in the eyes, as if he wanted to say something, but turned to look past me the next moment. His ears were red, his face was red, even his neck was taking a pink color. Trunks' brain was pulling strings and you could practically hear the gears working. I waited for a question, any kind of statement.

 _'Why did you kiss me?'_

 _'_ _Disgusting!'_

 _'_ _What does this mean?'_

 _'_ _Get away from me!'_

 _'Don't touch me!'_

 _'_ _What were you thinking?'_

Instead I was punished with awkward silence, and I decided that I needed to speak up.

'Trunks, I don't have the right to tell you anything, really, but please… hear me out. I want to…explain.'

I sat up, trying to keep posture for what I wanted to say. You don't confess every day, and I wanted to make sure he could take everything I was going to say seriously. He saw me move, and rose, too. He curled himself up, drawing his knees to his chest. He stared at the ground.

After a short moment, his blues moved reluctantly and through thick lashes he shyly looked at me.

'Trunks… You are the most Important person to me. In fact, if it wasn't for you…I don't think I'd want to carry this on. This… life. You are the sole reason I fight every day to survive, and the only reason I train so ruthlessly to destroy the androids.'

I swallowed. Forming these words in my mind and actually speaking them out loud was taking a toll on me. I felt anxiety build up in my stomach, and I felt nauseous. I often dreamed about confessing to Trunks, later on, when the androids were history and he was old enough to deal with this. But this was the complete opposite of what I had imagined.

Tears were forming in his eyes again, and a salty drop rolled down his flushed cheek. He nodded slightly, telling me to continue. Thank kami, he was actually listening to me.

'Since you were born, I always felt a deep connection to you. I felt like you were the little brother I never had but always wanted, and I thanked kami that I had someone to share the same fate as me – a hybrid, half human, half alien. Times were always hard for us… and… I… I always wanted to protect you. I wanted to teach you, laugh with you, eat with you, explore with you… Live with you… To me, you outshine every person around you. Others.. they don't matter. Only you do. When you smile, I smile. When you hurt, I hurt, too.'

I smiled at him apologetically.

'A few years ago I connected the dots in my mind... you were my only ray of light in this world, my source of… yes everything, my will to eat, survive, live…and.. I finally admitted to myself that I was … I was hopelessly in love with you, Trunks.'

Trunks starred at me with wide eyes. Tears started escaping his eyes again, and he buried his face his knees, sobbing. He hugged his legs as if he was trying to comfort himself, and all I could do was stare. I could feel my eyes burn with my own tears, but I was in no place to start crying myself. My poor boy, why did I hurt you so badly…

Sobs ripped through him and made me shake at the sound. I wanted to embrace him so badly, to try to shush him and rock him into sleep, like I often would. Tell him something funny from my childhood, adventures I had with my baby dragon, or what my mom would cook for me when I was studying like she wanted me to. Things I saw, and wanted him to see, too.

'Y-You… you idiot, G-Gohan.' Trunks' voice sounded so childlike, accusing, pouting.

Pouting?

He slowly let go of his legs and relaxed a little, though apparently still crying.

He sniffed, and his sobs were subduing. He rubbed his nose with the back of his hand, and tried to wipe away the waterfall of tears covering his pink face. He glared at me through wet lashes sticking on his cheeks, and I admit, I was scared of what he was about to tell me. I was prepared for the worst, but then again it was only what I deserved.

'What- what did you think…?' I avoided his eyes. Guilt was a bulb in my throat.

'I'm-I'm so sorry. I won't touch you ever, ever again.' Silence.  
'I promise.' More silence.

'…How long?'

What?

The bewilderedness obvious in my face, I dared to look him in his eyes again. He stared at me with a determined look.

'…Wha-'

'How long have you been in love with me?!'

I gulped down the lump in my throat. Might as well spill it all to him, would it make any difference?

'…Four years.'

'…Since I was 14?'

'13.'

I felt sick. He was a child back then, and I? I felt attracted to him. How, just how? Hell, if I had the dragonballs, or any other way to make those feelings go away, I would have erased them a long time ago. Somewhere in my mind I knew that I wasn't attracted to Trunks because he was a child- it was because it was _him_. It was the person Trunks was that I fell for, but still. I felt horrible for realizing then, even more horrible now for saying it out loud. How long I have wanted him to be mine, how gross of a person I was, what filth was buried inside of me.

'13…'

Shock was not exactly what was written on Trunks' face but more like… amazement? Awe? No. I was misinterpreting things right now, I was too agitated myself.

'Gohan, you…'

'Trunks, I promise, I-I never touched you, never lay a finger on you in an inappropriate way. I swear.' I raised my hands in a self-defending way, not able to look straight. My voice was giving away that I was about to cry. I tried to hold back, to not make my misery more mortifying as it already was.

'Please believe me…'

It was in vain. Tears spilled over, and my heart clenched yet again. If Trunks didn't think lowly of me till then, that would have sealed the deal. I covered my face with one hand, trying to somewhat keep my composure. What a shameful man.

I was gripping onto the fabric of my pants, seeking hold.

Then, a soft hand laid itself on mine.

Through callus fingers and tears I saw him, grabbing my hand, almost reassuringly. I couldn't read him. I grabbed his hand in response, still half covering my face with the other.

His hand was warm, and I felt so, so cold.

'I'm sorry… so sorry.'

'Gohan… please… No more.'

I nodded helplessly in response. Whatever he wished for, I would do it.

I looked down, ashamed, and closed my eyes. I held the bridge of my nose, trying to calm down. After a short moment, I let go of my face and lay my hand on my thigh.

Breath in, and breathe out.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

'Gohan…'

I remember hearing the soft noise of moving cloth, and two warm, soft hands gently touching my face.

Rosebuds met my lips again, and I felt his delicious warmth… I flung my eyes open in shock. What was happening?

I grabbed his thin shoulders, pulling him away from me.

'Trunks, stop!'

Out of breath, with red cheeks, he eyed me accusingly.

'What-Why did you…?' My mind was mush. What?

'You are indeed an idiot…'

Huh?

'Gohan…I- You are not the only one, you know…' Puppy eyes were holding me into place.

What was he saying? What on earth was he telling me?!

'Gohan…' He slowly leaned over again. I was so shocked that I didn't move an inch, and let go of his shoulders.

His lips met mine again, and I didn't resist this time.

Oh kami…  
Did he just tell me…

My arms slowly wrapped around him, pulling him closer, and on my lap. His eager mouth sucked and nibbled on my rough flesh, and I wondered if I was dreaming.

It all happened so fast-

I let his scent fill me, and I started to get drunk again.

 _Wasn't he crying just mere moments ago?_

My body was responding. His touch was like oil on my fire, and all oxygen seemed to be sucked out of the cave we were in.

He was rubbing against me. His crotch oh so slowly rolled against my pelvis, seeking attention, and my arm wondered down.

 _I thought I'd hurt him, I thought I'd lost him…_

My hand grabbed his hip, and tried to slow him down. Oh energetic youth…

My lips broke the kiss, and I tried to speak.

'Trunks…'

I didn't recognise my own voice, coming as a deep growl, breathless. The thought of what was about to happen was suffocating me, and I felt so unbearably hot.


End file.
